Zeroing In
by chezchuckles
Summary: co-authored by Kate Christie and chezchuckles, a post-ep piece for Significant Others. Beckett has dinner with Meredith.


**Zeroing In**

* * *

a co-authored story by **Kate Christie** and **chezchuckles**

* * *

Kate rolled her eyes as she stepped quickly down the steep stairs into the subway, her thumb hovering over her phone.

She huffed and lifted her head to pay attention, weaving her way through the crowd, and then she swiped her card and went through the turnstile. She texted him back as she made her way to the platform.

_No, that was not a 'get me out of this' look. Having girls' night. Now leave me alone, kitten._

She could do this. He didn't even have to worry - or well, yes. Let him worry a little. Let him sweat it out all night, have a panic attack over what they might be telling each other. What had he said about Alexis working at the OCME? Separation of church and state, right? Well, let him experience the Holy Roman Empire of Panic Attacks when his-

Ug.

She'd been about to say _women_. His _women_-

No.

Not-uh. Let Meredith be lumped in with the Redheads, and Kate could be her own entity. Singular unto herself.

Much better.

* * *

Beckett checked her watch and was pleased to see she was ten minutes early. Perfect. She could settle in, get the lay of the land, and mentally review her options.

It felt somewhat like going into battle.

She moved quickly down the sidewalk and checked her google map again, then glanced up at the imposing edifice before her.

Ah. Of course. She should've seen this coming.

Fiorini was a swanky Italian place in Midtown with severe white tablecloths, richly upholstered chairs, and pendant lighting reflected in elaborate floor to ceiling mirrors. When Beckett stepped through the front doors, she paused, pulling off her gloves and gently pushing them into her bag.

She opened up her coat, realized she was surveying the restaurant like it was a crime scene. Her turquoise scarf was suddenly cloying, and she was grateful she hadn't worn jeans to the precinct this morning.

Kate stepped up to the hostess's podium and waited patiently until the woman could get to her. Gave her time to scan the room.

The blonde finally turned to Kate and gave a subdued nod of her head.

"Hi," Beckett greeted the woman. "I'm supposed to be meeting a - friend - here. Not sure she's-"

"We have a woman at the back - red hair - said she was waiting on a-"

"Oh yes," Kate murmured, her eyes finding the redhead now. Meredith was sitting primly at a table for two, her eyes unerringly on Kate. "That's her. Thank you."

Damn. Meredith had gotten here ahead of her.

The hostess began leading her back and Kate took in a breath.

Okay. Into the fray.

* * *

Kate sipped her wine and surreptitiously glanced at the menu. No prices. Hmm. Not good. Oh well, she'd just put it on the credit card and wait until next pay day to get those Sergio Rossi crocodile boots.

Too bad. Castle would've loved them.

She ordered quickly, smiling at Meredith when the woman seemed to be watching her like a hawk. But then the waitress walked away and Kate jerked to attention, an arm out to grab the woman.

"Oh, I've already ordered," the redhead said with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about me."

Kate nodded and sat back in the chair, still feeling a little stiff. The idea of coming here was to show she wasn't insecure, but now that she was here-

maybe she was.

Meredith already had all the answers, and Kate was still figuring it out as they went along.

Huh. But Meredith's final answer on the subject of Castle had been - _no_. And Kate - she had every intention of _making_ her answer be something other than no. Relationships weren't a magic eight ball, and it wasn't like she was shaking it up and waiting to see what little blue-tinged triangle would float to the surface.

Put in the work.

"Meredith, I'm sorry your trip to Paris was cut short. I've heard you and Alexis have been there often."

Like a flight overseas without even telling Castle.

Meredith's eyes went too wide, a definite tell. Probably covering her urge to narrow them. Kate wasn't the youngest to make homicide detective for nothing.

"Oh, yes. Alexis loves Paris. We have the best time together. Have you ever been?"

"In college. Free travel after a semester abroad. Where did you go to school?"

The smile was wide and graceful - more graceful than Kate's pointed questions. _Get it together, Beckett; she's not a suspect across the table._

"I had the good fortune to go straight into acting. A series of minor roles on Broadway," Meredith simpered, her lashes down to draw praise.

_Okay, I'll play along._ "Oh, what shows? Maybe my mother took me to see them."

_That's petty, Beckett. Don't rub it in how much younger you are._

"Oh, no, nothing important. I did get a role with Shakespeare in the Park. That was so much fun. Alexis was tiny."

Despite herself, there was something about hearing stories of a baby Alexis that appealed to Kate. "Oh? How old was she?"

Meredith waved it away. "You know. Little."

"Well, like, newborn or toddler?"

Meredith put her elbows on the table and leaned in close. "Richard was such a nervous father. Always hovering and complaining that the toys I bought her were recalls from China or something. But he was sweet."

Oh-kay. "I bet Alexis was a good baby," Kate said, hoping to keep the conversation going.

"Oh, yeah. Easy as pie." But Meredith's gaze had that distant look to it, as if the topic didn't quite hold her attention. "After my c-section - which was scheduled, of course, because I _had _to get to an audition in two months, and I had it down to the wire, I swear. Kate, you wouldn't believe what I went through to get my figure back. No one wants a fatty playing the lead."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure it took some work. A body like that's not easy. Though I doubt you were fat."

"Hardly," she demured, turning a wide smile on Kate. "You're a runner, aren't you? Some pilates or yoga? I do those, plus spinning. You should really try spinning. It's excruciating, but oh - you get that glow - and it is just bliss, Kate. It is. I'd show you my abs, but not in public, right?"

Meredith giggled and Kate blinked, belatedly joined her with a half-hearted laugh.

"So do you?" Meredith asked.

"Do I. . .oh, yes. Yoga. Um, running when I have to. But there's a training room at the precinct, and I do some kick boxing and mixed martial arts. The self-defense is important-"

"I can imagine," Meredith interrupted smoothly. "I'd really like to try that. I hear the MMA fighters are hot. Have you ever seen a cage fight? Mmm, delicious. All that sweat and muscle. Richard's no slouch, and when we were married, he definitely did a better job of keeping that hard body. But - oh, after Alexis." Meredith huffed and gestured like everything had been a wash.

Kate seriously wasn't sure she wanted to be comparing notes about Castle. She'd teased him about it but. . .

"I bet you have some great stories about Alexis as a child."

Meredith looked at her blankly for a moment, and then she seemed to perk up again. "Oh, well, of course, darling. Alexis was a serious child, though. And her father and I divorced when she was three, so. . ."

Kate waited, but the trailed off sentence seemed to suggest that Meredith couldn't possibly know what Alexis was like after that.

And well, maybe she didn't. That was sad. Kate wondered if she missed it, if that was why the woman had shown up to take care of Alexis. When she remembered she was a mother, maybe it really did bother her.

Maybe it bothered Alexis more.

"Honestly, Richard did all the work - the dirty diapers, oh ew, nasty. You would not believe how disgusting a newborn diaper is. Gross. But Richard rolled up his sleeves and got right into it."

Okay, so. . .Castle might be the one thing they had in common. She was so not looking forward to this.

"So, Meredith. How is the acting in L.A. compared with New York?" Kate said instead. If she could just keep Meredith talking about herself.

Meredith's head tilted and her eyes lit up. "Oh, let me tell you."

* * *

They were deep into their second glasses of wine by the time their dinner plates were cleared. Things had been easier once Kate picked up on the magic topic of L.A. and Meredith's acting career, and as their waiter brushed away crumbs and topped off their glasses, the silence between them seemed almost comfortable for the first time all night.

Meredith's eyes flicked down briefly to where Kate's hands were folded neatly on the edge of the table, then met hers as the other woman leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, all those questions about baby Alexis make me think you must just be dying for a little one of your own."

There was no hiding the flash of utter shock that must have paled Kate's cheeks, slacked her jaw, left her lips parted in an incredulous "O."

"I'm sorry, is that too personal?" Meredith's smile held a hint of malice. "I just figured since you seemed so interested in baby stories… Well, you are getting to that age when most women start to hear the clock ticking."

Resurrecting her composure, Kate cleared her throat experimentally. Ok, no shrieking.

"No, Meredith, I'm not _dying_to have a baby."

Kate was amazed that the woman didn't even have the insight, or maybe the good manners, to look chagrined. In fact, she kept going, leaning closer over the flickering candle playing silent referee in the center of their table.

"Because you know, if you're waiting for the right time, well, there never really is one."

Kate was trying her best not to let the smoke actually emerge from her ears, but she couldn't help herself; the set-up was just too perfect.

"And I guess you would know something about bad timing, wouldn't you?"

_Oh, Kate, that was mean. Probably uncalled for. Probably._

Looking up through her lashes to assess the damage, she was surprised to see not indignation, or outright anger, both of which would have been completely appropriate reactions to Kate's snide remark, but a timid, self-deprecating smile barely curving up the corners of Meredith's lips. There was moisture starting to pool at her lids, but with a deep breath in, all traces of it disappeared.

"You know, Kate, I was scared."

The redhead's eyes dropped to the French burgundy she had been swirling. The hand encircling her wine glass relaxed, flexed, spun the wide round balloon counterclockwise half a turn, then back again.

"I was a lot younger than you are now, not much older than Alexis, really."

Her eyes flicked up, met Kate's for just an instant, maybe a little wide with shock at her own unexpected mental math.

"I was trying to break into acting, living that old cliché, if you can make it here..."

Her lips curled up just a fraction at the memory of naiveté.

"And Rick was fun, and crazy, and romantic. He took me out, introduced me to people. We were in it for the same reasons-we were young and pretty, and we got along, and of course there was the amazing sex."

They shared a knowing look. The woman's earlier comment still rankled, but nothing about this story seemed put on. Maybe Meredith truly was clueless, rather than intentionally mean.

"But neither of us was all that serious. When that stick turned pink, I almost had a nervous breakdown."

The wine made a quick and decisive trip to her lips, then a more leisurely, spiraling descent back to the linen tablecloth. This was no story invented to manufacture sympathy. It rung of truth in that vaguely embarrassing way that only real life can.

"I wasn't even going to tell him-was going to just take care of it on my own, pretend it had never happened. But he caught me one morning, turning green and getting totally sick in his bathroom, and he put it together right then. He's always been quick with plot twists."

"He held my hair back, got me up off the floor and onto his couch, put my feet up, somehow found me ginger ale and Saltines, and when I could sit up, he dropped on one knee and asked me if I would do him the honor of being his wife. 'The honor.' Honorable was about the last thing I was feeling at that point."

Eyes closed, she took a deep breath and forcibly straightened her shoulders, sat up to her full height, lifted her chin as if in long-overdue defiance.

"It was the sweetest, most genuine, and honest and... He gave me that face-you know the one where you feel like you're the only thing that matters in the whole universe?"

Oh, she knew it, had irrationally hoped it had only ever been meant for her.

"And even though I was totally terrified, had no intention of getting married much less having a baby, how could I say no?"

The tears were just brimming, threatening to ruin mascara and eyeliner, when Meredith again blinked them back and looked up at her.

"He was amazing. Read every book, went to every appointment, started buying things for the nursery before I was even showing, let me have the most amazing Cinderella wedding. I will never for one moment regret marrying him, Alexis or no."

Never one for words, Kate wasn't surprised that she didn't have any to offer. The need to blink, herself, was a bit of a shock, though.

Clearing her throat with another cryptic smile, Meredith, pushed back from the table, laid her napkin beside her plate.

"Excuse me for just a moment."

Kate wasn't sure what to do with the odd, deep-seated feeling bubbling up in her chest. It was almost empathy. This woman had been barely more than a child when she had gotten pregnant, gotten married, been flung into a life she hadn't sought, didn't want. For whatever had come afterward, she had toughed it out at the time, done what she could.

At that age, Kate had been in the midst of the most self-destructive phase of her life. Looking back, she had no idea how she would have handled a similar situation. A tiny part of her actually looked up to Meredith for having the presence of mind to do what she did.

Absentmindedly sipping her glass of wine, Kate startled when a glass crashed to the floor at the bar behind her. The wine sloshed over, entirely missing her napkin in favor of landing squarely in the middle of the unprotected swatch of fabric over her thigh.

Shit. If she didn't get this out right away, it would stain. Grabbing her bag, she ducked out in the direction Meredith had gone. The woman was going to think she was stalking her to the ladies' room. Nothing for it at this point, with her favorite slacks on the line.

As she rounded the corner into the back hallway, her forward motion stalled when she heard Meredith's voice coming from behind a partition just past the restroom doors.

"No, Henri, I know. I'm so sorry I've been delayed. It won't be much longer-at most a day or two. But I just had to come. With Alexis sick, it gave me the perfect opportunity to see what the big deal was about."

There was a pause, obviously while the person on the other end of the phone conversation responded. So Meredith was late for a rendezvous in Paris?

"I've been bonding with her. Keep your enemies closer, you know. He marries her and there goes my little discretionary fund, just like with the last one. It took _two _rounds of really enthusiastic ex-sex to get it back after that divorce."

Oh my god. For all the air-headedness she'd ascribed to this woman before tonight, never had Kate imagined Meredith was capable of this degree of thoughtlessness, or frankly, this level of acting ability.

Obviously Kate hadn't given her enough credit.

"Just being cautious, making friends, comparing notes."

Oh, this was so not happening. She was a detective, for crying out loud, she could pick up on a lie from a hardened criminal from across the room. How had she let this woman play her?

"Once I've got her on my side, I'll give her something to stew over when I'm gone. She seems skittish; I doubt it will take much to get her to talk herself out of anything more... permanent."

That scheming, conniving... But this was no time for Kate to let emotion get the best of her-no. She had to remain calm, not let on, keep the Twinkie thinking she was hanging on her every word. See exactly what she had up her sleeve.

"I'll tidy things up, be just annoying enough, and Alexis will send me on my way. Look on the bright side- now it will be just the two of us in that giant suite with nothing to do but-"

There was a pause, followed by a chirp of laughter.

"-exactly."

Suddenly that charming little giggle turned Kate's stomach sour. She wheeled to rush back to her seat. Castle could buy her a new damn pair of pants.

* * *

Meredith had been all smiles through dessert, which was a decadent chocolate soufflé that the redhead had insisted upon. Conversation had veered off into the mundane, dipping no deeper than what Meredith had thought of the Golden Globe nominees for best actress and where Kate shopped for her jackets.

Sliding into the back seat of the cab beside her, Kate was a little startled when Meredith's arm slid around her shoulders, her upper body huddling close with teeth chattering lightly.

"Oh! I forget how absolutely frigid it can get in the winter here. I've got such thin skin living in L. A."

Without much choice, Kate let her own arm encircle the shivering woman's waist as she called out Castle's address to the cab driver.

"How do you do it, Kate? It's like the cold can't touch you."

There was something about her, this silly, audacious, unself-conscious woman that removed inhibitions, excused narcissistic character flaws. Kate's smile emerged of its own accord.

"Stay away from skirts and invest in leather, I guess."

Turning to catch Kate's gaze, Meredith pinned her with bright blue eyes, so open and startlingly clear that Kate found herself blinking to break that intensity.

"You know, that's something I've always admired about you, from the very first time I met you all those years ago."

She did her best not to sabotage her reaction, despite her inclination to take anything that came out of Meredith's mouth with a grain of Meredith-tinted salt.

"You're a woman in a profession overrun with men, probably had to work twice as hard to get where you are just because you lack the testosterone, and yet you manage to maintain an amazing level of femininity."

Still snuggled close, Meredith reached out to stroke a finger over the leather of Kate's sleeve.

"Your sense of style, clothes, hair, make-up-you could be on a runway, frankly. But yet you do such amazing things for the people of this city, all while running in four-inch heels. I envy you, doing something that really matters, but not sacrificing what it means to be a woman."

For all she had overheard that should have made her wary, Kate's subconscious responded to something in the veracity of this woman's tone, the openness of her admiration. Actress or no, Meredith meant what she was saying.

"And from everything my daughter tells me, you kick some serious ass."

Kate's laugh was genuine when it bubbled over, and so was the answering friendly squeeze on her knee. But Meredith's voice went solemn, edging on melancholy when she continued.

"She really looks up to you, you know? As hard as it is for her to accept that her dad is getting close to someone again, I can tell she respects you and what you do, which is more than I can say for her opinion of me most days."

Kate felt the spur of jealousy in that last remark, found it easier than she ever would have imagined to empathize with the feelings of inadequacy rolling off the woman beside her. She watched as the actress dragged the corners of her lips into a remarkably sanguine smile.

"But we do have fun when we're together, just like Rick and I always did."

Damn. This woman had such a way of making you want to be nice to her. And for all her better detective instincts, she was going to give in.

"Speaking of fun, you know, we could use this opportunity to have a little fun at Rick's expense."

The light danced back into Meredith's eyes at Kate's mirthful hint. Maybe this night could be salvaged after all.

"What did you have in mind, exactly?"

"Oh, I don't know, walk in together, me looking horrified, accuse him of not being the man I thought I knew..."

"I like you more every single minute, Kate Beckett."

* * *

Waiting for Leann Piper to be booked and processed meant Castle and Beckett didn't make it back to his place until late. His eyes looked bleary and she knew her feet were killing her, so it was with a sigh of relief that she pushed the front door closed behind them.

She scraped a hand through her hair and scratched her scalp, following him closely towards his bedroom. She wasn't paying attention, thinking more about kicking off her shoes than anything, and so she plowed straight into Castle's back when he stopped suddenly.

Alexis was on the couch.

He went for her. "Hey, Alexis, what are you doing downstairs? It's nearly two in the morning."

Kate paused hesitantly, her body yearning for bed, but her heart hooked by the man bending over his daughter to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Ew, don't, not too close," Alexis mumbled. "I'll get you sick, and then you'll get Beckett sick-"

Castle chuckled, shot her a look over his shoulder, and Kate just shrugged, sliding her jacket off and waiting.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he said, coming to sit at Alexis's hip. She seemed to rouse a bit, struggling to sit up, and he helped.

Kate shifted in her shoes, winced as her arches flared.

"Mom is upstairs. Gram. Enough redheads for one floor."

Castle laughed and glanced back at Kate again; she gave a twitch of her lips and realized this might be a - personal conversation. About the girl's mother. Alexis didn't sound so thrilled with the arrangements, which Kate honestly hadn't expected, but after that dinner tonight - maybe she understood it.

"Good night, Alexis," she said quietly, and then slipped back towards his bedroom before either of them could say anything.

Beckett took her shoes off in the hallway, her feet flattening and spreading against the floor with each step. She sighed and rolled her head on her neck and then dropped her shoes beside her open suitcase.

Kate pulled her hair back and went for the bathroom, washing her face with the special soap Castle had gotten her addicted to, patting her skin dry and peering at her reflection. She went to the bathroom, washed her hands, brushed her teeth.

Padding back out to his bedroom, Kate couldn't help the yawn that widened, made her stumble against the closet. She needed sleep; let Castle make it in when he could.

She tugged the hem of her shirt up and jumped when she felt the warm palm at her waist. He chuckled and tugged her shirt over her head, brushed her hair away from her face and grinned.

"Everything okay?" she murmured, letting him have the shirt as she nodded towards the living room.

"She's getting. . .cranky. Faster than she usually would, since she's sick."

He tossed her shirt towards her suitcase and came in to kiss her; she pressed two fingers against his mouth, shook her head. "You heard Alexis. Gonna give me germs."

He grinned wider against her fingers, snagged her wrist to reel her in anyway. His kiss was provocative, thorough, like he was proving a point.

When he broke away from her, she opened her eyes on a little noise of contentment, unavoidable really, and he squeezed the hand he still held, let her go. "What was that about leaning to the left?"

"What?" she murmured, running her palm down his shirt and hooking a finger in the bottom button.

"You said, when you and Meredith came in, _it really does lean to the left_-"

She laughed and bit her bottom lip, let her hand drop suggestively. "Not that."

He huffed and crowded closer, drawing his arms around her waist. "What then?"

"Your head - actually your whole body kinda. . .tilts."

"What?" he choked.

She lifted her hand and pushed his hair back from his face. "When you're stressed. Never noticed it before."

"Meredith told you this?" he grunted, but he didn't seem to mind her hand in his hair, stroking.

"Mm-hmm. And then you proved it when we came in the door."

"You tortured me."

"Just a little." She lifted on her toes to press a kiss to his lips, quick and teasing. "But don't worry. Now I know your tell, Castle, I can - _help_ - relieve that stress."

He chuckled darkly and hovered close, his mouth ghosting hers, a torture of his own.

"I'm impressed, Beckett," he murmured then, like they were just having a conversation, like his fingers weren't working on the buttons to her pants.

"Impressed?" she got out.

"A whole dinner with Meredith and not a single violent act - not even a text threatening bodily harm."

"Against whom? Her or you?"

He laughed and rewarded her correct grammar with a nip of his teeth; she pressed closer but he skirted her advance.

"Either. Or yourself. Lesser men - and women - have been known to stab themselves with a fork to get away."

She laughed and tilted her head. How little he knew. "Just ruined a pair of pants is all."

"You did?"

"Didn't notice the wine stain on my slacks?" she murmured. "Didn't have a chance to even change."

"I could help with that."

"Oh, I'm sure you could," she archly, even as he was already sliding his warm hands inside, skimming them down her hips. "And don't worry, Castle. She's nothing I can't handle."

* * *

With Meredith finally out the door, it took Kate only a moment to follow him to the kitchen, the numb feeling finally draining away to be replaced with cool and careful calculation.

Nutmeg in his coffee. Divorced when Alexis was three.

What else?

Beckett was nothing if not good at her job, and since he had approached _her_ like she was a job, she felt no qualms about thoroughly investigating Castle. Not his financials, not his alibi, but his details.

All the little things that made a life.

She sat down at the bar and watched him reach smoothly for the skillet from the hanging rack overhead; his eyes were happier and less stressed, his hair cutely out of place, dark with recent sleep.

"So what goes in this. . .omelette thing?" she started.

He gave her a hesitant look, turned away to put the pan on the stovetop. She studied the line of his shoulders and the pink at his neck. When he finally turned to look at her, he was getting eggs out of the fridge and rushing through it like he thought she'd say no.

"Okay, only a little crazy. A smidgeon crazy. But you'll love it."

"Ingredients, Castle."

"Really, a master chef never reveals his secrets."

"You're thinking of a magician, and no you're not - magician or master chef." She pressed her lips together to see the faint whine start in his eyes, the way it wrinkled his nose like he was about to _literally_ whine.

"Just - give it a chance."

"I didn't say I wouldn't. I just want to know what's going in it."

"Um. No."

She huffed at him and leaned her elbows on the counter. "No? How do you know you're not putting something in it that I'm deathly allergic to?"

"Because I know you," he shrugged. "You don't have any food allergies. A slight allergy to mold, I think - but who doesn't?"

_Mold?_ Seriously. How did he know this stuff?

"What about you? Fatal food allergies, Castle?"

"Naw."

Well that was easy enough.

"Although one time, I ate shellfish and shrimp at this little place in Soho - I know, Soho, right? - and I got violently ill. It was: So. Very. Gross."

"I'm not going to get violently ill on your omelette thing, am I?"

"Smorelette. And no. You have a strong stomach."

She startled with laughter, caught the wriggle of his eyebrow and grin he was tossing her way. "That doesn't make it sound all that promising, you know."

"I know, but - okay, so Alexis might have gagged when she ate it."

"You've put your daughter through this trial by fire?"

He groaned and turned around to point at her. "It is not that bad."

"Not as bad as violently sick with shellfish and shrimp."

"No. Not at all anywhere close."

"When was that?"

"What?"

"Shellfish," she asked, kept her voice neutral and light.

"Ah, Alexis was little, I think. I had this smoking hot-" Castle stopped and turned slowly to her. "You don't want to hear that."

"Sure I do."

He cocked his head at her and raised his eyebrows dramatically.

"Okay, no, I don't want to hear you describe your smoking hot bimbo, but-"

"Not a bimbo, actually. Marine biologist. So she said. I never-"

"Castle."

"Right. I was just going to say it's possible my date picked that up from Seinfeld because I never got a chance to even ask - she never called back after I vomited on her shoes."

Kate pressed a hand over her mouth and tried to keep from laughing. "You vomit on my shoes, Castle, I won't be calling you back either."

Castle narrowed his eyes at her failed attempt to keep from laughing, and he turned back to the stove, cracking eggs, the hot pan beginning to sizzle with it. "I vomit on your shoes, I'll buy you new ones. And you better be nursing me back to health."

She stayed silent until he turned to look at her, merely raised an eyebrow at his hope.

He went back to the eggs.

Okay. It was clear to Kate now that she had a tendency to shut down on Castle when he got overeager in his explanations. She _didn't_ want to hear him rattling off his long list of conquests, but if she persevered through the other women portion, then Castle did get down to actual information.

Not that it seemed all that important that he vomited shellfish on a woman claiming to be a marine biologist, but perhaps there were other stories she'd not heard, not ever asked, and maybe those stories held the clues.

To him.

Like the fact that he wanted her to nurse him back to health.

Before last night, she might have said, _Good luck with that._ And rolled her eyes and walked away. But a real expectation like that was information she should know. Because she'd already proved she could change. She just had to _know._

So Kate probed a little more. "Alexis was three when you and Meredith divorced."

He turned around at that, deer in the headlights, but something in her face made his shoulders loosen, his eyes relax. "Yeah."

And _that_ - what was that? A whole host of stories waited behind that affirmative - things she could actually see now that she was paying attention. That it had been hard, that it had been filled with grief for his daughter, for himself, that having a three-year old girl alone had been scary but he'd done it with grace and humor and a lot of missteps.

Just from a look and the way he said yes.

She stood from the bar and came up behind him at the stove, put her hand to his lower back as she lightly bumped his hip. He smiled when he looked over at her, spatula in hand, working at the eggs.

So far nothing untoward in those eggs. "So. . .ingredients."

He set his face, mulish, shaking his head. She squeezed his side.

"Whatever it is," she said. "I'll eat it. Promise. You can tell me."

Castle gave her a look, melodramatic and over the top and part of everything she loved about him.

"Fine," he said. "I'm entrusting you with this great culinary secret."

"I can be trusted."

He grinned. "Smorelette: graham crackers, chocolate-"

She laughed. "And marshmallows?"

He gave her a shrug, unrepentant, smiling.

"Why am I not at all surprised?" she murmured.

"You'll still eat it?"

"I'll still eat - _try_ - it."

* * *

**K. C.**: Thanks to Laura for an excellent week of getting inside Meredith's head, which was a great place to visit, though I wouldn't want to live there. What a good sport; she was even game for continuing my crazy alphabet title scheme with the letter "Z!" This post-ep was not only a blast to write thanks to having an awesome partner in crime, but also just made me feel so much HAPPIER about "Significant Others." I would write with you any time, Chez.

**Twitter**: Kate_Christie_  
**Tumblr:** KathrynChristie dot tumblr dot com

**chezchuckles**: This went so smoothly - I enjoyed exploring the elements of that dinner with Meredith and how it affected/didn't affect Kate's view of Castle. KC is not only a doctor but ALSO a writer! That's impressive. This one is for Sandiane Carter, who wanted so badly for the show to give us that dinner scene. I hope this Meredith is what you envisioned.


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